


Want To Take A Part Of You

by GotTheSilver



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, Sheriff Stilinski Finds Out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-25
Updated: 2013-02-25
Packaged: 2017-12-03 13:57:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/698998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GotTheSilver/pseuds/GotTheSilver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Stiles learns about first loves, betrayals and lasting love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't find the Carver twins attractive at all (probably because I watched them grow up on Desperate Housewives) and imagined someone else when writing the Alpha twins. So I won't judge you if you do the same.
> 
> Title from Pure Love - Burning Love.

“Where’s Stiles?” Derek demanded as soon as Scott walked into the loft alone.

“He’s hanging out with Ethan.”

“Who’s Ethan?”

“New kid at school, he -” Scott broke off and grinned. “He likes Stiles, like, _likes_ Stiles.”

“Why didn’t Stiles check with me?”

“Because you’re not his dad? Seriously, Derek, what’s the matter with Stiles hanging out with someone else? Being happy, maybe? Don’t you think he deserves it?”

“Scott, you know what we’re up against,” Derek frowned. “Anyone new has to be considered suspicious, especially if they go after Stiles. He can’t protect himself, and he stinks of wolf.”

Scott’s eyes flashed at Derek, “Don’t, Derek. Just don’t. He’s human, if he wants some time away from this supernatural shit show, he’s going to get it.”

“Scott -”

“No. Leave him alone. Let him have a life. Or don’t you want my help?”

Derek shot a glare at Scott before nodding once, “Fine. Come and take a look at what Peter found last night.”

“So we’re trusting him, but not Stiles?”

“No,” Derek said, an edge in his voice. “I don’t trust him, which is why you and I are going over it.”

Scott ducked his head, “What is it?”

“Peter claims it’s some kind of prophecy, but I think he’s wrong. Prophecies don’t exist - not really. Things change. Things always change.”

-

Stiles glanced over at Ethan and bit his lip before turning back to the screen. He’d been kind of surprised that Ethan had even been interested in coming over. They’d shared a few lunches together when Scott was doing make up tests to cover for the things he’d missed last year, but - hell - Stiles had no idea what this even meant. He wasn't very good at reading signs and it’s not like he’d had anyone to talk to about this stuff. Scott managed to fall into a relationship without any real effort, Stiles wasn’t exactly best buds with Isaac, Lydia was still dealing with Jackson vanishing out of her life, and Boyd and Erica were still MIA. Stiles couldn’t even contemplate asking Derek. His brain would literally explode if he had to do that.

Stiles had no idea if Ethan was even interested in him, or if he’d just been polite when Stiles invited him over to hang out. His skin felt twitchy, and Stiles needed to do something.

“Do you want a drink?” Stiles asked.

Ethan smiled at him and nodded his head, “Yeah, soda please. Thanks.”

Stiles made a gesture with his hand and slunk off to the kitchen. He grabbed two cans out of the fridge and just about resisted the urge to bang his head against a cabinet. Stiles turned around to head back to the living room and stopped in his tracks when Ethan walked into the kitchen.

“Did you want something else?” Stiles asked. “I hide most of the decent snacks from my dad, but there’s a stash -” He trailed off as Ethan came closer. Stiles backed up against the counter, soda cans still in his hands and let out a strangled laugh. “Uh - Ethan?”

“Am I totally off base here, Stiles?”

“Um.”

“Because I like you, and I think you like me. I’d really like to not be wrong about that.”

“Oh. No, you’re, uh, not wrong.”

Ethan nodded his head slowly and moved even closer to Stiles. He could count each eyelash on Ethan’s face if he wanted to and - oh, okay, those were Ethan’s lips. Stiles’ brain took a moment to catch up before he kissed back, Ethan seemed to appreciate that and he opened his mouth. Stiles instinctively followed and he almost jumped when Ethan’s hand came to rest on his hip. He was painfully aware that he was still holding the soda cans and pulled back for a moment, twisted his arms to place them on the counter before turning back to Ethan.

“So you’re okay with this?” Ethan asked.

Stiles laughed, “Yeah, totally, completely, okay.”

“Good,” Ethan squeezed Stiles’ hip before letting his hand drift down to take Stiles’ hand. “Want to go back in there and not watch the movie?”

“You have no idea how much.”

-

Stiles swung the door to the jeep open and waited for Scott to climb in. They were halfway to school before Scott said something.

“So, how was your big date with Ethan?”

Stiles scowled, “It wasn’t a date.”

“But something did happen, right?”

“What? Oh my God, can you smell it? Because that is so creepy, I can’t tell you enough how creepy that is. I’m your best friend, doesn’t that get me some privacy?”

“Stiles, calm down. I’m not smelling anything on you. That whole ramble, though? Totally confirming something happened.”

Stiles sighed, “Yes, okay, we kissed. A lot. You want details?”

“No,” Scott laughed. “No, I’m fine without details. You know I’m happy for you, right?”

“Yeah,” Stiles glanced at Scott. “I know.”

-

It wasn’t like Stiles expected school to be different now that he had a boyfriend. Which - he did have a boyfriend, right? Even if he and Ethan hadn’t exactly got to discussing the finer details, what with all the making out, but - he’d said he liked Stiles. So that had to count for something. Oh God, what if it didn’t? What if Ethan had said that just to get some random tongue action? Stiles was yanked out of his thoughts by Mr. O’Dell asking him to solve a problem on the board. He shook his head and walked to the front of the classroom, eyes fixed on the board, resolutely not looking at Ethan.

Despite his brain racing, Stiles solved the problem and turned to go back to his seat. He involuntarily caught Ethan’s eye and oh shit - he hadn’t meant to do that. Ethan didn’t look away, his lips twitched into a soft smile before he looked back down at his desk. Stiles knew his cheeks were flushed, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Scott kicked the back of his chair when Stiles sat back down and gave him a thumbs up when Stiles turned to look at him. Stiles rolled his eyes and laughed, knowing Scott heard how his heart had sped up.

Lunch was weird. There was really no other word for it. Scott and Stiles sat on the same table, Allison migrated towards them quietly - still nervous after going off the deep end, Lydia hanging close to her. Isaac turned up after them, and then, Ethan. Scott un-subtly made Allison move up so that there was a space next to Stiles. As sweet as Scott undoubtedly thought he was being, Stiles kind of wanted to smash his face into the table. He glanced at Ethan as he sat down, thankful to see Ethan was almost as embarrassed as he was.

“So, Ethan,” Lydia said as she speared a fry with her fork. “Why did you move to Beacon Hills?”

“Uh, my Dad was offered a new job. Can’t really turn something like that down in this economy.”

“Right. Where did you say you lived before?”

Ethan laughed, “I didn’t, but we move a lot. Before we came here, we were in Carson City.”

“Nevada?”

“Yeah. Dad’s promised I can finish out High School here before we move again.”

Allison smiled at him, “I know what that’s like. We lived all over before we settled here.”

“Is it just you?” Ethan asked.

“Just me and my Dad.”

Stiles interrupted before old wounds could start being rehashed, “So has everyone finished grilling Ethan now?”

“For now,” Lydia smirked.

-

“I apologise for my friends,” Stiles said as he and Ethan walked down the halls at the end of the day. “They’re, uh, protective.”

“No, it’s good. I’m glad that you’ve got people looking out for you. Not that I think you need it,” Ethan ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry, I -”

Stiles laughed, “Don’t apologise. Seriously, son of a Sheriff, I’m used to the protective vibe.”

“Okay then.”

They stopped by a block of lockers and Stiles turned to Ethan, “So, I’ve got lacrosse practice and, uh, I’ve actually got to do something afterwards that I can’t get out of, but we can do something tomorrow?”

“I’d like that,” Ethan looked around before he leant in and quickly kissed Stiles on the cheek. “See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, yeah, absolutely.”

Ethan waved goodbye as Scott joined them. Stiles turned to look at Scott, who laughed when he saw Stiles’ face.

“What?” Stiles said. “What?”

Scott clapped a hand on Stiles’ shoulder and shook his head, “Nothing, dude, nothing. Come on, Finstock’s just dying to give you a chance to get hit.”

“Is that meant to be encouraging?”

-

Stiles pulled the jeep up outside Derek’s building and paused. Scott stopped with his hand on the door and frowned at Stiles.

“You know you don’t have to come in, right?”

Stiles shrugged, “But I do, don’t I? Derek wanted us all here, and there’s not actually a reason for me not to be here. If he’s being weird about me having friends without special powers, that’s his problem. Right?” Stiles bit his lip and sighed, switching the jeep off.

“Just remember I got your back,” Scott said as he climbed out of the jeep. “Alpha or not, you’re my best friend.”

“I wouldn’t want you to get your pretty face smashed in on my behalf, Allison might shoot an arrow at me.”

“Are you saying I couldn’t take Derek?” Scott asked, nudging Stiles with his shoulder as they walked to the lobby.

“I’m not saying that. Nature is saying that. Him, Alpha, you, Beta. Just the facts, buddy,” Stiles smirked as he pressed the button to call the lift.

“Traitor,” Scott grinned.

They were still laughing when they walked into Derek’s loft, Scott stumbling ahead when Stiles shoved him through the door. Isaac looked up and raised an eyebrow at them, Stiles wondered if this was something all werewolves developed the ability to do, or if Derek picked them to bite because they could do it already. Derek glared at them and Stiles fidgeted, the attention making him feel uneasy. He didn’t know what Derek’s problem with Ethan was, and he really didn’t want to examine it too closely incase he reached some really weird conclusions. It’s not like Ethan was a danger, he couldn’t be part of the Alpha pack, or else Scott would scent it. Well, maybe. Stiles wasn’t sure how good Scott was with the whole scenting thing. Isaac would. And given how close Stiles and Ethan had been lately, Derek would definitely smell it on him.

“Sit,” said Derek.

Stiles rolled his eyes and slumped on the couch Derek had no doubt scrounged up from a dumpsite. “Yes sir. Anything else for you, sir?”

“I’d say be quiet, but we all know that’s impossible.”

“Wolf’s got jokes,” Stiles said. “Why do we need to be here, anyway?”

Isaac lounged on the couch next to Stiles, “He won’t tell us until Lydia and Allison get here.”

Stiles rolled his eyes and kicked his legs up on the table. Derek made a noise in the back of his throat that Stiles chose to ignore. If it really bothered Derek, he could use his words. Lydia and Allison walked in the loft a few minutes later, Lydia glaring at Isaac until he made space on the couch for her. Allison leant against the wall with Scott, still unsure of her place, not willing to push too hard to be accepted.

Derek crouched down by the table and fanned a set of papers out on the surface. Stiles frowned, the words were in English, but he couldn’t - he picked up a page and studied it. References to a mage and a ‘magic holder’ jumped out at him. If Stiles didn’t know better, he would swear Derek had picked up rules to a random MMORPG. Lydia flicked through the rest of the pages before she reached over to over to grab the remaining paper out of Stiles’ hands.

“Hey,” Stiles exclaimed.

“What? I’m the only one who’ll be able to make sense of these.”

“Again, hey!”

“Fine, I’m the only one who’ll have the focus to make sense of these before we all die,” Lydia smirked. “Better?”

Stiles grumbled and sunk back into the couch cushions. Scott shot him a sympathetic look before nodding at Derek, “Tell them what Peter thinks it is.”

“Peter believes it’s a prophecy,” Derek said. “It’s not something I’ve ever read before, magic and werewolves don’t mix well. This is -”

“Why do you think it’s our business?” Lydia interrupts.

“Because the Alpha pack have got a copy. Rumour has it that one of them is something rare, a werewolf mage. If that’s true, they’ll be interested in what this has to say.”

Scott picked up the thread, “It’s power. If they can get what the prophecy refers to, a human magic holder, they’ll have more power than anyone. We won’t be able to fight them.”

Isaac glanced at Lydia and Stiles on the couch, “So who will they be after? Lydia or Stiles?”

Derek and Scott exchanged a look. “We don’t know,” answered Derek. “It could be either of them.”

“‘Them’ are sitting right here,” Stiles said. “Also? Human. Not a magic holder.”

“What about the mountain ash, Stiles? Deaton said you were a spark,” said Scott.

“Deaton’s a vet.”

“Stiles, just,” Scott ran a hand over his face. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“What makes you think it could be Lydia?” Allison asked.

“She’s immune to the bite. That’s never happened before,” Derek said. “We know nothing about what that means, and neither does the Alpha pack.”

“So what are we meant to do?” asked Isaac.

“Stay alert. Be suspicious of anyone new in your lives. Tell me if any of you think you’re being followed, if someone has been in your house, anything,” Derek stood up and looked at them. “That’s all.”

“You’re a real homemaker, you know that?” Stiles called as Derek vanished up the stairs of the loft. He looked up to see everyone staring at him. “What?”

“Stiles,” Allison said, a concerned look on her face. “How much do you really know about Ethan?”

“No,” Stiles got off the couch. “No, and no. I’m not talking about this. If he got all furry, one of you would smell it. He’s not evil.”

“You can’t know that for sure,” Isaac said as Stiles walked towards the door.

“I know that,” Stiles said quietly and paused by the door. “But can you all please trust me?” He left the loft before any of them answered.

Scott glared at them, “Leave him alone. I’ve already talked to Derek about this, which is why he didn’t press it. Now I’m telling all of you, don’t ruin this for Stiles. Let him have a normal life.”


	2. Chapter 2

Two weeks later and Stiles finally had an actual, real life date with Ethan. Between school and Derek’s paranoia meaning extra training for him and Lydia, Stiles barely had time to sleep let alone time to see Ethan. He looked at the contents of his wardrobe, it was only a movie and maybe milkshakes afterwards, but Stiles still wanted to look...good. Who didn’t like looking good? He reached for a red shirt he hadn’t worn yet and tried it on. Stiles had just finished buttoning it up when he heard his window slide open. He rolled his eyes and turned around to see Derek staring at him.

“Am I in immediate danger?”

Derek frowned, “No.”

“Then I’m not free,” Stiles sat on the edge of his bed. “So you can go.”

“What are you wearing?”

“A shirt.”

“You look - different,” Derek said. “Run out of plaid?”

“Funny. And, no. I have plans.”

“With Ethan?”

Stiles looked over at Derek, his face was closed off and he was staring at the wall instead of looking at Stiles. Derek’s jaw was clenched and Stiles wanted to - he just wanted that look to vanish, but he was pretty sure Derek would jump out of the window if he did anything. Stiles shrugged, “Yeah, with Ethan.”

“Okay. I’ll go.”

“Wait -” Stiles said. Derek paused with one leg out of the window. “Just. I’ll be around tomorrow. You can come by then.”

Derek nodded before he left. Stiles waited until he was sure Derek was a suitable distance away before he swore loudly. Why did everything have to be so complicated? Fucking werewolves.

Stiles jumped when his alarm went off and rubbed a hand over his face. Ethan would be here soon, and he still had to explain to his dad where he was going. For tonight, he was going to put all furry beings out of his mind and have a fun night, with a nice boy, who would never think of climbing through his window whenever he saw fit.

The Sheriff was stuffing lunch meat into a sandwich when Stiles came down the stairs.

Stiles leant against the fridge, “Hey Dad.”

John turned around and did a double take at Stiles’ appearance, “You going somewhere?”

“Uh,” Stiles scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah, actually. You remember I told you about Ethan? We’re going to a movie.”

“Right,” John took a bite of his sandwich and chewed thoughtfully. He looked Stiles over and swallowed his mouthful. “Is this a date?”

“Um. Kind of?” Stiles coughed. “Yes, yeah. It is. I - we’ve - he’s my boyfriend. I think.”

John raised an eyebrow, “You think?”

“We haven’t exactly talked -”

“Stop. I don’t want to know.”

Stiles’ cheeks flushed and his hands twisted together, “So you’re okay with this?”

“You happy?”

Stiles nodded, “Yeah.”

“Then I’m fine with whoever you want to date,” John reached out an arm and pulled his son into a hug. Stiles let out a sigh of relief and sunk into his dad’s arms. He clung to him for a moment before he stepped back.

The doorbell rang, Stiles exchanged a look with John. “That’s probably -”

“Go,” John waved a hand. “I want to meet him.”

“Oh my God, Dad,” Stiles groaned. “Seriously?”

“Seriously. I’m the Sheriff, and I have guns. What part of that would make you think I’m not serious?”

Stiles slunk off towards the door, muttering things underneath his breath. He paused before opening the door, a slight smile on his face, “Hi.”

“Hey,” Ethan grinned back at him. “You ready?”

“Yeah, just, uh. My dad’s home and he wants to meet you, so...”

Ethan’s eyes widened, “Oh. He’s cool with us being...us?”

“Yes, totally,” Stiles said. “He’s totally - yes. There’s no way he wouldn’t be, uh, you want to come in?”

Stiles stepped back to let Ethan in and tried not to smile too widely when Ethan brushed a hand against his. John walked out from the kitchen and stared at Ethan, Stiles resisted rolling his eyes because, really? The bad dad routine? Stiles guessed he should be grateful that he hadn’t put his holster back on and that his gun was locked away. There was a reason Stiles had waited until the last minute to tell his dad where he was going.

“You’re Ethan?”

“Yes sir,” Ethan held his hand out and looked gratified when John shook it.

“Stiles tells me you’re going to the movies.”

Stiles jumped in, “Yes, yes we are, and the movies, they have a schedule which we need to keep to, so we’re going now.”

John held back a smirk when Stiles gently shoved Ethan out the door. “Remember you have a curfew, Stiles,” he called as they headed towards the jeep.

-

Stiles had to stop himself from punching the air when Ethan headed straight for the back row. They shared a pack of Twizzlers during the trailers, Stiles’ mouth went dry at the way Ethan’s lips wrapped around the candy, he took a large gulp of his soda and fixed his eyes on the screen. Stiles had never been particularly great at concentrating during movies, the addition of Ethan next to him didn’t help, and he was painfully aware of his leg jogging up and down during the opening scenes. Ethan placed his hand firmly on Stiles’ knee and squeezed. Okay then. He turned his head to look at Ethan and found his face inches away, his breath smelling like strawberries. Stiles couldn’t say who moved first and the movie settled into background noise as he felt Ethan’s mouth slide against his tentatively. He deepened the kiss, one hand coming up to grip the back of Ethan’s neck as Ethan slipped his hand up Stiles’ thigh.

They kissed once, twice, three times before Ethan pulled back for air. Stiles’ grip on Ethan’s neck loosened as he rested their foreheads together. Ethan pushed the arm between the seats up and moved infinitesimally closer to Stiles, somehow he managed to twist their legs together and Stiles swallowed a groan when Ethan’s hand brushed against his crotch. Stiles pressed forward, seeking Ethan’s lips again and smiling when Ethan’s gasp was muffled between them. Ethan wasn’t forceful, not like how Stiles imagined - others - could be. He let Stiles set the pace, let him decide how far to take it. It had been a long time since Stiles had felt trusted like this, and it was overwhelming - in the best way, in a way that made Stiles feel like a regular teenager for once.

Stiles was caught off guard when the lights started to come up, he coughed and detangled himself from Ethan, attempted to straighten his shirt where Ethan had pulled it askew. He glanced at Ethan and hid a smirk at his swollen lips and the very obvious bulge in his pants. Stiles wondered if - he got distracted by Ethan stretching. He waited for the majority of people to leave before he stood up. Ethan followed him and took his hand with a shy smile, Stiles knew his cheeks were flushed. They walked out, exchanging looks along the way, and stopped beside Stiles’ jeep.

“I had a good time,” Ethan said, leaning against the jeep. “The movie was -”

“I’ll give you ten bucks if you can even tell me what that movie was about,” laughed Stiles.

“There were explosions? I don’t know,” Ethan ran a hand through his hair and looked up at Stiles. “That’s not a bad thing, though, right?”

“Definitely not a bad thing,” Stiles muttered as he pressed Ethan against the jeep and pushed his knee between Ethan’s legs. He shoved a hand underneath Ethan’s shirt, brushed his fingers against skin and grinned when Ethan groaned. Stiles mouthed at Ethan’s neck and sucked a bruise into the flesh. “You want to get milkshakes, or you want to go somewhere else?”

“Fuck - Stiles,” Ethan let out a strangled moan. “Somewhere else. I think they’ll arrest us if we go to the milkshake place.”

Stiles stepped back and raised his eyebrows, “And that would be embarrassing, especially for me.”

Ethan laughed and ducked his head, “I don’t really want your dad catching me with my hands down your pants.”

“Uh, yeah -”

“I mean, if you - I don’t want to -”

“No, that,” Stiles smiled and touched Ethan’s arm. “I’m fully on board. Really.”

-

They drove out to the preserve, which made Stiles uneasy. He made sure to drive past the Hale boundary lines, the idea of Derek finding him with Ethan, of Derek _meeting_ Ethan - Stiles would be happy if that never, ever happened. Stiles looked over at Ethan and had time to take a breath before Ethan cocked an eyebrow and placed his hand on Stiles’ thigh. Ethan leant over and kissed Stiles, who responded enthusiastically, his hands groping at whatever parts of Ethan’s body he could find. Stiles hissed when Ethan’s hand ran up his thigh and cupped his crotch. He dug his blunt fingernails into Ethan’s shoulders and nipped at Ethan’s lower lip before he pulled back.

“Okay,” Stiles gasped. “Okay, I love my jeep, but she’s not exactly made for this. Unless we want this to end in pain, I suggest we -”

“Go outside?” Ethan said, smirking as he undid Stiles’ fly and slipped his hand inside Stiles’ boxers. He squeezed Stiles’ cock lightly before removing his hand and climbing out of the jeep.

Stiles blinked and followed him out, his jeans undone and blindingly hard. Ethan walked around the front of the jeep and pushed Stiles against the door. He shoved Stiles’ jeans and boxers down, grinned and licked his palm before grasping Stiles’ cock. Stiles swore, it echoed in the preserve. All Stiles could hear was the slick of skin on skin and the loud, laboured breathing coming from both their mouths. Ethan mouthed at Stiles’ neck and worked his way back up to Stiles’ mouth, kissing him firmly. Stiles shoved his hips forward until his knee slipped between Ethan’s legs as much as it could and he groaned when Ethan started to rut against Stiles’ bare thigh.

Ethan bit out a moan when Stiles reached his hands down, unzipped his jeans and wrapped a hand around Ethan’s dick. Stiles couldn’t quite get the angle right, and he was overwhelmed by what Ethan was doing to him, but by the way Ethan kept gasping, the way his head fell against Stiles’ shoulder, he was doing something right. He yelped when Ethan swiped his thumb over the head of his cock and on the next squeeze, Stiles’ legs started to tremble. The back of Stiles’ head hit the jeep’s window, he looked down and bit his lip at the sight of his cock going in and out of Ethan’s fist.

“Shit - Ethan, I’m not going - fuck,” gasped Stiles as he came all over Ethan’s hand. Stiles panted, his breathing obnoxiously loud in the silence of the preserve.

Ethan whined as Stiles’ shaking hand continued to jerk him off, he licked a stripe up Stiles’ neck and came with a shout, “Fuck, Stiles - fuck.”

Stiles was wrecked, he slumped against the jeep as much as he could without ending up on the floor. Ethan’s head was tucked into Stiles’ neck, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. Stiles hummed happily and tapped his fingers against Ethan’s side before a stiff breeze made him realise his dick was still on display. He pushed Ethan off him with a smile and pulled his boxers up, wincing at the tacky feel of drying come.

Ethan wiped his hand on his jeans and pressed a kiss against Stiles’ lips, “Sorry for, uh -” he gestured at Stiles’ shirt.

Stiles looked down and laughed, “Oh man. That’s a mess.” He pulled his jeans up and tucked his shirt in to hide most of the stain.

“Sorry,” said Ethan, his face slightly flushed.

“Worth it,” Stiles shrugged.

“Yeah?” Ethan muttered, his face close to Stiles.

“Yeah,” Stiles said, his voice a whisper. He tipped his head forward and captured Ethan’s lips, his hands reached round to grab at Ethan’s ass, pulling him in tightly.

-

Stiles flicked through Netflix on his computer and tried not to jump when he heard a rapping at his window. He spun round on his chair and rolled his eyes when he saw Derek glaring at him through the glass.

“Sure, just give me a heart attack,” he muttered as he opened the window.

“That’s not likely to happen,” Derek said.

“Says you,” Stiles snorted. “What do you want?”

“I -” Derek paused, his eyes narrowing. “Have you spoken to Deaton?”

“Why would I speak to Deaton?”

“To see if he knows anything,” Derek said, sitting on the edge of Stiles’ bed.

“I’m pretty sure he knows lots of things, but are you talking about something in particular?”

“Stiles - can you just - the Alpha pack ring a bell? Their desire to get their hands on you or Lydia, maybe?”

Stiles turned back to his computer and sighed, “I’m not magic, Derek, therefore I’m not in danger.”

“You don’t know what you are, Stiles.”

“Your social skills are really coming along, you know that?”

“Not exactly my biggest priority right now.”

“You know the whole flies with honey saying, right?”

Derek smirked, “You’re certainly as irritating as a fly.”

“Ugh,” Stiles spun back around to look at Derek. “You’re the one who came here, dude. What is it you want?”

“I told you, have you spoken to Deaton?”

“And I told you that I haven’t.”

“You need to,” Derek said. “He can teach you things I can’t, things to protect you.”

Stiles worried his bottom lip with his teeth and looked at Derek. “I don’t want to - I’m just me, Derek, I’m not - a spark or whatever.”

“But you don’t know that for sure. You were able to make the mountain ash work, not everyone can do that,” Derek stood up and paced around Stiles’ room. “If you don’t want to do it for you, do it for your dad.”

“What? Don’t bring him -”

“I’m not bringing him into anything, but you live here with him. If the Alphas think you’re the one, and they come here, what do you think will happen?”

Stiles blood ran cold. The whole reason he hadn’t told his dad about everything was to protect him. He ran a hand over his face and met Derek’s eyes. “Okay. Okay, I’ll talk to Deaton. Scott’s working tomorrow, I’ll stop by with him.”

“Good,” Derek turned to head towards the window and stopped for a moment, his nostrils flaring.

Stiles thought he saw Derek’s eyes flash red and approached him slowly. He put a hand on Derek’s arm. “Derek?” he asked, quietly. “Are you -”

“I’m fine,” Derek’s voice sounded hoarse. “Last night went well?”

“Uh,” Stiles let go of Derek’s arm and stepped back. “Yeah. It did.”

Derek’s jaw clenched and all Stiles could do was watch as Derek fled out the window. Stiles stood in the middle of his room for a few minutes before he groaned and flopped onto his bed. He yelled into his pillow and didn’t move from his bed until his dad tapped on the door.

“Stiles?”

Stiles turned his head, “Yeah?”

“You alright?”

“Yeah, fine. What’s up?”

“Nothing, just wanted to remind you to put the laundry in.”

Stiles scrambled off the bed, “Oh, yes, yeah. I’ll do that.”

“You sure you’re okay, kid?” John stepped into the room. “Last night - nothing happened, right?”

“What? Dad, no, I’m - I’m just tired, that’s all. It’s been a long week.”

John looked at Stiles, a tight smile on his face, “Alright. I’m heading off to the station, remember to eat.”

“Teenage boy here, don’t think you need to remind me to do that,” said Stiles. He quirked a smile at his dad and waited until John left before he let the smile drop. Stiles was fine, he was. He’d be better if Derek would stop acting so fucking weird, but he was well aware that was a distant dream.

Stiles sighed and walked over to gather his laundry up. The shirt he’d been wearing last night was on the top of the pile and - fuck. Fuck. That was exactly where Derek had been standing before he went all weird. It was too much to hope that Derek hadn’t picked up on the dried come on the shirt because that’s not how Stiles’ life was. Stiles stomped down the stairs with force and stood by the machine, sorting out darks from whites as his brain raced. What right did Derek have to even care about who Stiles was dating? Or what they did together. Derek hadn’t ever shown any - nope. Stiles couldn’t go down that road, if he did it would end up with him jerking off and trying not to picture Derek.

Yep, that had happened before. Stiles didn’t like to talk about it.

It wasn’t like they were _friends_. Derek just happened to always be around, and, okay, Stiles could admit that Derek was at least making an effort not be the power hungry dickmunch he’d been since he’d become Alpha, but that was a long way from being a decent person. Derek wasn’t allowed to have opinions on Stiles finally getting some action. He wasn’t.

Stiles sighed and switched the washing machine on. He watched his shirt go round a few times before he snapped out of it and went looking for food.


	3. Chapter 3

Somehow, Ethan joining Stiles and his dad for dinner had become a regular thing. Stiles still wasn’t sure how it had happened. There had been an initial ‘get to know the boy dating my son’ dinner that the Sheriff had insisted on, Stiles would admit it hadn’t been awful, but he really didn’t understand how it had turned into this over the past month. This being: Ethan slicing vegetables while Stiles browned some meat & onions in the pan and John filled a saucepan with water for the spaghetti.

Stiles was pretty sure this wasn’t how most boyfriends and fathers interacted. He tried not to think about it too much. The first week Ethan had shown up for more than one dinner, John had fired questions at him, mostly along the lines of ‘didn’t Ethan have his own home?’, ignoring the pointed glares Stiles had shot him. Once Ethan explained that his parents worked a lot and weren’t always around, John had softened, told him he had an open invitation.

When John was working, Stiles and Ethan usually ordered take out and ate in front of the television. These nights, when John was around, they’d somehow fallen into a - Stiles didn’t want to say family routine, because he’d had that once. He still remembered being held up by his mom to peer at the food she was making on top of the stove, how his dad had teased her about making sure it was edible. So it wasn’t a family routine, but it was something - something Stiles thought was maybe too fragile to name.

“Hey, can someone pass me the -” Stiles’ voice faded away when Ethan handed him the tomato paste with a smile.

“So, Ethan,” John started when they had settled at the table. “Have you given any more thought about trying out for sports?”

Ethan swallowed a mouthful and shook his head, “Not really. If there was a basketball team, then I would, but that’s really the only sport I’ve ever been good at.”

“You played at your old school?”

“Yes sir, I’ve been playing since I knew what a basketball was.”

“Have you looked into some youth centres? There must be somewhere for you to play.”

“Maybe in a few months,” Ethan reached for his soda. “I’m still getting used to Beacon Hills.”

John nodded, “Stiles, how’d that English test go?”

“Good, it went good,” Stiles shrugged. “Harris gave us a pop quiz today, though.”

Ethan groaned, “Don’t remind me about that.”

“Sorry,” Stiles nudged Ethan with his elbow and smiled at him. “There’s no way you did as bad as you think you did.”

“That’s nice, but totally untrue. Harris didn’t pull any punches with those questions.”

“We can study later,” Stiles glanced at his dad. “That’s cool, right? If Ethan stays when you’ve gone to work?”

“What time is your curfew again, Ethan?”

“Ten, sir.”

“Then, yes, you can stay. But make sure you’re on your way by nine, okay?”

“I will.”

-

John left around seven, Stiles walked him out, his skin burning red when his dad raised an eyebrow and told him to be safe. Stiles wasn’t sure how far his dad thought he and Ethan had gone, but judging by the way he acted, it was way further than they actually had. Nothing had really changed since that night in the preserve, there’d been less clothing and mouths in interesting places, but it hadn’t gone past hand jobs.

Stiles wasn’t unhappy with that, hand jobs were awesome, someone else’s hand on his dick was awesome, Ethan was awesome, but he - he wanted more. He and Ethan hadn’t talked about their history, Stiles was aware that he didn’t have anything to share, but he had a feeling that he wasn’t Ethan’s first. He slumped on the couch next to Ethan and hid a smile when Ethan pressed himself against Stiles’ side.

“Want to watch something?” Ethan asked.

Stiles shook his head, “You want to go upstairs?”

Ethan nodded and leant over, kissing Stiles softly. Stiles smiled against the kiss and tugged at Ethan’s hand. They made their way up the stairs and into Stiles’ bedroom. Stiles closed the door behind them and turned to see Ethan sprawled across his bed, his shirt off. He sucked in a breath and bit his bottom lip, “Uh -”

“Come here.”

Stiles smirked and walked toward the bed. Ethan pulled him down and ran a hand up Stiles’ shirt, he quirked an eyebrow and Stiles nodded, pulling his shirt off. Stiles fell forward and latched his mouth onto Ethan’s neck, sucked a mark there before pulling back. Ethan’s hand curved around Stiles’ jaw, his thumb brushed against Stiles’ cheekbone, “Can I -”

“What?”

“I want to blow you,” said Ethan.

Stiles wasn’t quite sure how his brain continued to function in the face of that, but he leant forward and kissed Ethan hungrily, gripping at his shoulders. Ethan returned the kiss just as fiercely, Stiles held back a groan when their bare chests collided, his fingers gripping Ethan’s shoulders. Ethan nipped at Stiles’ bottom lip before he pulled away, he rested his forehead against Stiles’ and grinned, “Is that a yes?”

“Fuck yes,” Stiles said. He watched eagerly as Ethan unwrapped himself from Stiles and sunk to the floor.

Ethan palmed Stiles’ cock through his jeans and laughed when Stiles swore under his breath. His fingers traced above Stiles’ waistband before he unbuttoned Stiles’ jeans and tugged them down. Stiles shifted on the bed, toed off his sneakers and let Ethan pull his jeans off. Ethan mouthed at Stiles’ cock through his boxers, Stiles clenched his fists in the sheets and spread his legs wider as the combination of pre-come and Ethan’s spit dampened the fabric.

“Shit,” Stiles exclaimed when Ethan licked above the waistband of his boxers.

“You good?” Ethan asked.

“Yeah - yep,” Stiles lifted his hips and tugged his boxers off, groaning when the air hit his cock. He looked down at Ethan and smirked when he saw the look on Ethan’s face, “Like what you see?”

Ethan grinned, “Hell yeah.”

“Uh - wait,” said Stiles. “Do we need a condom?”

“I’m clean and you’re -” Ethan bit his lip. “I’m your first, right?”

“Yeah.”

“If you don’t trust that I’m not clean then we can -”

Stiles reached down and ran a hand through Ethan’s hair, “I trust you. Besides,” he shrugged. “If you give me something, I’ll cut off your balls.”

“Really?”

“Yep.”

Ethan wrapped his hand around Stiles’ cock, “Really?”

“Ye-yes,” Stiles gasped.

“You sure?” Ethan asked before he licked a stripe up Stiles’ cock.

“Fuck. Keep doing that and I won’t be sure of much.”

“Good,” Ethan said as he sucked the head of Stiles’ cock into his mouth.

“Holy shit,” Stiles watched Ethan’s head bob up and down, taking more of Stiles’ cock each time he went back down. Ethan’s hands gripped Stiles’ hips, stopping him from thrusting up into the slick, warm heat of Ethan’s mouth. Stiles whined in frustration and rolled his eyes when Ethan looked up at him and tightened his grip even more. Ethan pulled back and swirled his tongue around the head before he held Stiles’ cock with one hand and licked up the vein on the underside. Stiles twisted his hand in Ethan’s hair and tugged a little, bit his lip when Ethan gave a muffled groan in response.

Ethan kept up the tight, hot suction on Stiles’ cock and Stiles couldn’t help but push his hips up, his breath coming in short gasps. Stiles reached down and pressed his thumb against Ethan’s cheek, groaning as he felt his cock stretching Ethan’s mouth, the spit pooling at the edges of Ethan’s lips. Ethan’s hand roamed up Stiles’ leg, his fingers stroking the sensitive skin on Stiles’ inner thigh. Stiles’ body started to tremble, “Fuck, fuck - Ethan, I’m close.”

Stiles tugged on Ethan’s hair and swore when Ethan didn’t pull off, Stiles’ other hand gripped the sheets, he could feel the sweat beading along his forehead. Ethan pulled back slightly and flicked his tongue into the slit of Stiles’ cock. “Oh my God,” Stiles yelped as he threw his head back and came, his jizz splattering across Ethan’s face. Stiles fell backwards on the bed and attempted to catch his breath. He was dimly aware of Ethan wiping his face on something and crawling on top of him. Ethan unzipped his jeans and pulled his dick out, Stiles’ eyes fixated on it, red and flushed. “Do you want me to -”

“No, just - fuck,” Ethan jerked himself off quickly, Stiles couldn’t believe how turned on Ethan was from sucking him off. He licked his lips as Ethan’s hand sped up, Ethan grunted and came over Stiles’ chest. Ethan leant forward and pressed his mouth against Stiles’, they kissed lazily for a while, soft and intimate. Stiles’ hands traced up Ethan’s sides, relished in the slight shivers Ethan couldn’t hide.

“I really need to wash the come off my chest,” Stiles muttered against Ethan’s lips with a smile.

Ethan laughed, turned his head to look at the clock and sighed, “And I have to go.” He kissed Stiles and climbed off him, offered a hand and pulled Stiles off the bed. Ethan picked his shirt up off the floor and zipped up his jeans, Stiles pulled on his discarded boxers and took Ethan’s hand. They stopped off in the bathroom, Ethan splashed his face with water and put his shirt back on. Stiles walked him down the stairs and stopped just before the door, scratching idly at his stomach.

“I don’t really want to give Mrs. Henderson an eyeful, so - see you at school?”

Ethan squeezed Stiles’ hand and leant in to kiss him softly. “Yeah, see you at school,” he said.

-

“Are you sure you want to come with me?” Scott asked the next day as he climbed into the jeep.

Stiles shrugged, “Yeah, why wouldn’t I? Derek said whoever could make it should come, I can make it so I’m coming.”

“It’s just -” Scott broke off, a strange look on his face.

“What?” Stiles paused in switching the jeep on and looked at Scott. “Dude, what? I’m not going anywhere until you tell me.”

“Uh, you kind of smell like Ethan. Like, really smell like Ethan. Kind of like I’m wondering what you guys did during lunch because of how much you smell like him.”

Stiles’ cheeks flushed red, “But we cleaned up.”

“Dude.”

“What? Are you trying to tell me you and Allison have never gone behind the bleachers for some -”

“Stop. Please stop. And no, Finstock hangs out in the bleachers.”

Stiles raised an eyebrow, “And how did you find that out?”

“When Allison and I - uh.”

“Hah, see. Ethan and I are not the only people using school grounds for extra curricular activities.”

Scott laughed, “Yeah, okay. You sure you want to join us knowing everyone will know what you’ve been doing?”

“Sure,” Stiles started the jeep. “How bad could it be?”

-

It was bad. It was really bad. When Stiles walked into the loft, he noticed Derek’s jaw tightening, and Isaac smirked at him as he sat down. Lydia wasn’t there, which was explained when Peter walked in. And that was about the worst thing that could’ve happened.

“Well, it certainly smells like someone has been having fun,” said Peter. His eyes took on a particular glint. “Good for you, Stiles, you deserve it.”

“And everyone knows I live for your approval. Could you not just ignore it like everyone else?”

“Oh I hardly think everyone is ignoring it, right Derek?”

Derek glared at his uncle and looked very much like he wished he could slash Peter’s throat again. Stiles coughed and glanced at Scott, who looked as confused as Stiles felt. Isaac looked between Derek and Peter, “I’m going to assume we’re not here to talk about Stiles’ sex life -”

“Thanks buddy, that’s not increasing the awkwardness at all.”

Isaac rolled his eyes, “What are we doing here?”

“Peter thinks he’s worked through the prophecy.”

“And?”

“And,” Peter said. “I think it’s Stiles.”

Stiles’ mouth dropped open, “What? What do you mean it’s me? How can you? You can’t know that.”

“Actually, I can. There are specific words that are only used when talking about a male, and they’re all over that prophecy. If the Alphas want to follow it exactly, and let’s face it, they’re so prissy that they will, they’ll want you.”

“But - I mean,” Stiles waved a hand. “I’m not magic.”

Derek exhaled, “Stiles, we discussed this.”

“No, we discussed maybe. We discussed in order to protect my dad. We did not discuss me actually being their target.”

“Why do you think I told you to go to Deaton, Stiles? For my own amusement? It was for protection. Do you think I don’t know you only went once?”

“I - I just thought -”

“You didn’t think. You didn’t think about yourself, and you didn’t think about your father.”

Stiles’ face paled and his breath started coming in short gasps. That wasn’t - he’d never meant to put his father in danger, he never wanted that. He couldn’t - Scott was crouching in front of him, Stiles tried to focus on what he was saying. Stiles met Scott’s eyes and attempted to match his breathing.

“Stiles, come on - with me. In and out, slowly. You know you can do this.”

Stiles nodded, his breath starting to get back to normal. He gulped in air and shook his head, “I’m good,” he said.

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” Stiles breathed and managed a weak grin. “I’m good.”

Scott patted Stiles on the arm and stood up, stalking towards Derek. “What the hell do you think you were doing, Derek? Is sending Stiles into a panic attack part of your plan to stop the Alphas? You want him to die before they can get their hands on him?”

“I need him to take this seriously, instead he’s fucking around with his little boyfriend and not listening to the people who are trying to keep him safe,” Derek’s eyes flashed red and Scott took a step back. “I’m not the one who wants him to die. If they get their hands on him, he won’t just die, he’ll be transformed into pure magic. There won’t be one bit of your friend left, he’ll be a shell.”

“You don’t need to be so fucking rude about it,” Scott said. “Stiles understands how dangerous this this.”

“Does he? Because all I’ve seen over the past few months has been Stiles preoccupied with getting his dick sucked instead of trying to stay safe.”

“Hey,” Stiles stood up. “Fuck you. If it wasn’t for your fucking family, none of us would be in danger in the first place.”

Derek glared at him, “Am I the one who dragged his best friend into the woods at night to look for a body?”

“No, you’re the one who told his secret to the worst person possible.”

“You’re going to blame me for Scott getting bit?”

Stiles shrugged, “Peter went crazy because of that fire. What do you think?”

A nasty smile appeared on Derek’s face, “And what do you think Ethan is doing with you, Stiles? You think this is love? Scott and Isaac might not be able to smell wolf on him, but make no mistake, he is using you for something.”

“Yeah, well, I’m used to it,” Stiles locked eyes with Derek. His mind raced, he had no idea how this had escalated so quickly. Stiles’ stomach churned, he didn’t blame Derek for Scott being bitten, he blamed himself. He’d always blamed himself.

“Get out,” Derek said through gritted teeth.

“Happy to,” Stiles grabbed his bag and left the loft. He didn’t wait for Scott, couldn’t wait for Scott, he just wanted to get away from everything supernatural, even if that included his best friend.


	4. Chapter 4

Stiles closed his locker door and jumped when he saw Ethan waiting for him.

“You okay?” Ethan asked.

“Yeah, yes. Sorry. It’s been a long day.”

Ethan frowned, “It’s 10 am.”

“Is it?” Stiles shrugged. “Long week, long life.”

“You still okay with me coming over tonight?”

“Totally,” Stiles forced a smile on his face. “Six, right?”

“Yeah,” Ethan quickly kissed Stiles’ cheek. “See you then.”

Stiles waited until Ethan was out of sight before he lightly banged his head against his locker door.

“Stiles?”

“Oh my God,” Stiles jumped and glared at Scott. “What is with all the stealth in this school?”

“Sorry - are you okay?”

“Peachy, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Just - Derek.”

Stiles shrugged, “I always knew he hated me, guess I didn’t realise how much until now.”

“He doesn’t hate you, Stiles, trust me,” Scott rolled his eyes. “He’s frustrated.”

“Well, he can find another punching bag. I’m done,” Stiles glanced at Scott and sighed. “What?”

Scott winced, “Derek called. Everyone at the loft after school, mandatory.”

“I’ve got plans.”

“Not until six.”

“You were listening? Do we have to talk about boundaries again?”

“Stiles, come on. I’m not exactly Derek’s biggest fan, but he wouldn’t make it mandatory if it wasn’t important.”

“Or he’s run out of hair gel.”

“Dude,” Scott frowned and widened his eyes.

Stiles groaned, “Fine, whatever. I’ll drive you over after last period.”

-

The drive over to Derek’s was quiet, Scott tried to get Stiles to talk a couple of times, but gave up when all he received were one word answers. Stiles couldn’t talk about what was going on in his mind. His stomach had twisted itself into knots as soon as Scott had told him Derek had called a meeting. Stiles hadn’t done much more than pick at his lunch which, considering it had been mystery meat, probably hadn’t been a huge loss to his nutritional system. Everyone had noticed, no one had talked about it. Stiles didn’t know if that was something to be pleased about or not. He couldn’t explain why he’d gone off at Derek like that, except that he was sick - so sick - of Derek acting like he had a right to be involved in Stiles’ life. Like they were friends when they were anything but.

Stiles’ hands gripped the steering wheel tighter the closer they got to the loft. He chewed on his bottom lip as he pulled into a parking space and switched the jeep off. Scott paused and turned to look at him.

“You coming in?”

“I -” Stiles let go of the steering wheel and squeezed his hands together. “I don’t know.”

“Do you want me to tell them you had something else to do? Like, with your dad or something?”

Stiles took a breath in and nodded his head, “Yeah. Yeah, I can’t go in there. Not after - what I said and what he - I think I want to go home.”

“Okay,” Scott rested a hand on Stiles’ shoulder. “Okay. I’ll call you if there’s anything you need to know.”

Stiles smiled weakly and waved a hand as Scott got out of the jeep. He watched Scott walk into the building before he drove off.

He took the long route back, there was still time before he needed to meet Ethan and Stiles couldn’t face having to talk to his dad. Stiles had almost become an expert at avoiding certain subjects with his dad, but this argument with Derek had hit him in a way that he wasn’t sure he could hide. He - he felt bad about what he said. He did. Stiles knew that Derek’s self loathing was so deep, everything Stiles had said, Derek already believed about himself. All Stiles had done was reinforce the fact that Derek was a terrible person. Stiles didn’t think that, not when it came down to the facts. Derek had risked his life more than once to save Stiles, to save Scott. It would’ve been so easy for Derek to turn his back on both of them, let them die any number of times, but he hadn’t.

Stiles couldn’t excuse what Derek had said to him, not at all, but even that - that was part of Derek’s low opinion of himself. Projecting his past onto Stiles, the shadow of Kate hanging over him. Stiles had never regretted having such a questioning mind like he had when he’d managed to piece together the details his dad had of the Hale fire with the details he’d picked up from Derek. Hated the conclusion he’d reached because he’d known it was the right one. And then he’d gone and thrown in in Derek’s face because, what? Because he was pissed Derek had an interest in keeping him safe? As bull headed and stupid as his methods had been, wasn’t that all Derek had been trying to do?

As he pulled into the driveway, Stiles narrowed his eyes. The door looked like it - he jumped out of the jeep and ran to the door, touched it lightly. It swung open and Stiles sucked in a breath. The photo frames on the wall had been smashed, there was dirt on the floor and Stiles was trying to ignore what looked like blood on the carpet.

“Dad?” Stiles called. “Dad?” He walked towards the kitchen, his eyes darting in every direction. Stiles knew what the sensible course of action would be, but this was his _dad_. He couldn’t walk away.

Stiles kicked the door to the kitchen open and walked in. He stopped dead when he saw Ethan sitting calmly at the table. Stiles’ mouth dropped open when Ethan’s eyes flashed.

“Wha - you. I defended you,” Stiles whispered.

Ethan smirked, “That was kind of stupid, wasn’t it?”

“Where’s my dad?”

“Oh, you’ll see him soon.”

Before Stiles knew what had happened, Ethan was standing in front of him, aiming a bat at his head.

-

Stiles groaned when the throbbing pain in his head made itself known. His eyes opened slowly, blinking as he attempted to acclimate to the lack of light in - wherever he was. Someone was whispering his name, Stiles attempted to turn around and that clued him into the fact that he was chained to something. Fuck. He turned his head to the right and saw - “Dad?” he said. “Dad, are you okay?”

John shook his head, “I’m fine, Stiles. Some scrapes. What’s going on? Why is Ethan doing this?”

“I -” Stiles stopped talking when someone walked over to them. A wolf, no doubt about that. He had the same kind of attitude as Peter - nose stuck in the air as he smirked at Stiles.

“Oh kid, you haven’t told your father about what you’ve been up to?”

“Shut up,” Stiles said through gritted teeth.

“Do you really think you’re in a position to be giving orders?” The man ran a clawed finger down Stiles’ cheek. “Do you think your Alpha will come for you? Think he’ll want to protect you after all those nasty words you said to him?”

Stiles tried to ignore the words and glared at him. “What do you want with us?”

“Us? Not so much. You? Well. Ethan? Explain.”

“Happy to, Deucalion,” Ethan sauntered over and raised one arm. “Aiden? Come here.”

“What the -” John’s eyes widened.

Ethan smirked, “You never met my twin, did you Stiles?”

“Don’t really care to, either.”

“That’s not nice. You’re going to become very close with Aiden.”

A sinking feeling came over Stiles, “He’s a mage.”

“Clever boy. He’s the reason your friends couldn’t tell I was a wolf,” Ethan leant close to Stiles. “Even when my spunk was all over you, they still couldn’t tell. My brother is very talented.”

Stiles closed his eyes and focused on anything but Ethan, “If this is a recruiting pitch, I already have a pack. Not in the market for a different one.”

“Oh really? Not even if I do this?”

A pained scream escaped from John’s mouth as Stiles’ eyes flew open. Ethan had John by the neck, Stiles swallowed as he took in the unnatural way his dad’s wrist was bent. He met his dad’s eyes and shook his head when John looked as if he was going to speak.

“What do you say, Stiles? Is it still a no?”

“Stop hurting my father and maybe we can have a civilised conversation.”

“We’ll let him go if you agree to join us.”

Stiles snorted, “As what? A pet to be brought out whenever your twin needs a magic boost? Whatever you think about Derek, he doesn’t treat me like I’m a toy.”

“You still think he’ll come for you, don’t you?”

“He always has before.”

Ethan nodded his head slowly before he turned to look at a woman in the corner, “Hey, Kali?”

“Yes, Ethan?”

“How much damage do you think the old man can take before he dies?”

Kali walked over and pressed a hand to John’s chest. She smiled, her fangs showing, “Enough.”

“Good to know. Aiden?”

Aiden’s eyes flashed and John slumped over, blood dripping from his nose. Stiles thrashed against the chains holding him, yelling for his father. The metal scraped against his skin, blood rushing to the surface of his wrist, he only stopped when a groan emitted from John’s mouth. Stiles hung his head, “You’ll let him go if I join you?”

“Stiles - don’t,” John said, weakly.

Deucalion stood and inclined his head, “You have my word.”

“Not exactly something I feel comfortable staking my dad’s life on,” Stiles sniped.

“It’s the best you’ve got, kid.”

“Fine. Let him go first.”

Deucalion nodded at Kali, she took the keys from her pocket and released John. The tightness in Stiles’ chest relaxed a little when he saw John stand on his own.

Then all hell broke loose.

-

Stiles blinked against the sudden bright light and realised quickly they’d come from the flares the Argents used. He could see figures moving steadily, heard Scott calling his name.

“Scott? My dad’s here. He’s hurt.”

“Okay - fuck,” Scott exclaimed as Kali dug her claws into his arm.

Stiles’ eyes took too long to get back to normal for his liking, he was aware of arrows flying across the room and he could hear Derek shouting orders. He tugged at his restraints and looked over at his dad. The keys were just by John’s feet. Stiles glanced up, all of the Alpha pack were preoccupied with fighting.

“Dad?” Stiles tried to keep his voice low. “Dad, the keys.”

John looked at Stiles and frowned, “What?”

“By your feet, get me out of these chains.”

Stiles’ leg twitched as he saw Derek fighting with Deucalion. Blood soaked Derek’s shirt, and Deucalion had his claws embedded in Derek’s shoulders, forcing Derek onto his knees. John made it over to Stiles, his left wrist hanging limply by his side.

“Hold still,” John said. He made fast work of the restraints and pulled Stiles into a hug once he was free.

Stiles buried his face in his dad’s neck, “I’m so sorry.”

“You have a lot to explain, son.”

“I know,” Stiles stepped back and glanced around the room. Isaac was helping Scott with Kali, clawing at her face as Scott shredded her back. Lydia shouted at them to get down before she shot a flamed arrow at Kali. Stiles’ eyebrows involuntarily raised and he resisted the urge to cheer as Kali went up in flames.

Stiles pointed his dad at the corner, “Go, sit. Give me your gun.”

“Stiles -”

“Does it look like we have time to argue? Can you just trust me? You know I’m a good shot.”

John stared at him and nodded his head, “Be careful. I love you.”

“Love you too, dad.”

Stiles spotted Aiden crouching over Isaac, he was weaving some kind of magic, Isaac was writhing on the floor in pain. “Scott,” Stiles yelled. “With me.”

Scott nodded once and stood behind Stiles as Stiles lined up his shot. He knew the bullets wouldn’t kill any of the wolves, but they’d slow them down long enough. Stiles took a slow breath and eased his finger onto the trigger. He pulled and Aiden went down. It was enough to break the magic, Scott leaped over Stiles’ head and started clawing at Aiden. Isaac yelled for one of the hunters to shoot and pulled Scott out of the way. Aiden went down, a wolfsbane bullet in his neck smoking away. Stiles searched for Derek and saw him still entangled with Deucalion, he bit his lip and went to take aim again. The bullet hit Deucalion in the shoulder, distracted him long enough for Derek to slash at his throat, tearing at the flesh until there was barely anything left. Stiles was fairly sure he should be grossed out by that, but he’d been kidnapped and forced to watch his dad be beaten up.

Derek looked up and met Stiles’ eyes. Stiles nodded at him and felt the corners of his lips turn up into something approximating a smile. Derek started to return it when his eyes suddenly flashed red and Stiles felt a hand around his throat. He kicked at the floor as he was lifted up, it was Ethan, it had to be Ethan, he was the only one left. Derek leapt forward, came within inches of Stiles before Ethan yanked Stiles back.

“No. No, you don’t get him, Derek,” Ethan squeezed Stiles’ throat. “You want to know who got him? I got him. You want to know what I did to him? What he did to me? You want to know every little detail?”

Stiles choked against the grip of Ethan’s hand. He’d never wished to be a wolf before, but if he could, he’d rip Ethan’s heart out himself. Derek took a step closer and Ethan tightened his grip, cut off Stiles’ air supply.

“Step back, or he’s dead,” Ethan said. Derek took a step back and growled. “Good puppy. Want to know how he begged me to suck his dick? How eager he was? How he never, not once, said a word about you?”

Derek’s eyes were bright red and Stiles could tell he was on the brink of losing it. It had been a long time since he’d felt this helpless. Someone was going to die, probably him, and there was no way out of it.

“Derek, get down,” Allison’s voice rang out just before a gunshot cracked out. Derek rolled to the floor and tilted his head up to see the bullet go straight through Ethan’s forehead. Stiles fell to the floor and coughed as the air rushed back into his lungs. He rested his head against the concrete and didn’t try to hide the tears that started to fall.

-

John walked over to Stiles and pulled him up with one arm, dragged him away from Ethan’s body. Scott joined them, crouched down to meet Stiles’ eyes, “What do you need?”

Stiles wiped a hand at his eyes, “Dad’s hurt. He needs to have his wrist set. And I - we - need to explain all this to him.”

“I’ll call my mom, tell her to meet us at your house.”

“That’s where they -” Stiles drifted off.

“We’ll clear it up,” Scott’s face was serious. “We’ll clear it up before you get home.”

Stiles nodded and let Scott leave. The hunters drifted away, Stiles could hear them making plans to come back and dispose of the bodies. He looked around the building and shivered, glad someone else would be taking care of that. Allison waved a hand at him as she went, Lydia following on her heels. Isaac was crouched near Derek, talking in low tones, Stiles looked away before Derek turned his head.

“Stiles?”

“Yeah, dad?”

“You want to go and talk to Hale?”

Stiles shook his head, “Can we just leave?”

“Okay,” John stood up gingerly and tossed his keys at Stiles. “They brought me here in the cruiser. You drive.”

-

When Stiles pulled up to the house, Mrs. McCall was standing on the steps waiting for them. He switched the cruiser off and rubbed his eyes, he was so _tired_ of everything. All Stiles wanted was to go to bed and sleep for at least a month. Maybe that would take his mind away from how he kept on fucking up his life.

Stiles followed his dad into the house, relieved when he saw that Scott and his mom had cleaned up. Even the blood was gone, and Stiles had no idea how they’d managed to do that. Mrs. McCall sent Stiles up for a shower with strict instructions to come back down as soon as he was ready. Stiles slunk up the stairs, his body feeling heavier than ever. He quickly washed up, winced when the water hit the raw flesh on his wrists where the chains had rubbed. Stiles pulled on his softest sweatpants and hoodie, stole a pair of socks from his dad’s dresser and walked back downstairs. Mrs. McCall handed him a mug of hot chocolate and ran a hand through his hair.

“Oh kiddo,” she sighed. “Come on, let’s go fill your dad in.”

Stiles nodded and sat on the sofa with Scott. He curled in on himself and looked at his dad, who was nursing a glass of whiskey.

“So,” John said. “Werewolves? Really?”

“Yep. Werewolves.”

John shook his head absently, “Everyone?”

“Scott, Derek and Isaac. Lydia’s immune,” Stiles waved a hand. “We don’t know what that means, really. Allison’s a hunter.”

“A hunter?”

Scott answered, “Her family, they hunt werewolves. Bad werewolves, not us. They have a code. Though her Aunt was kind of crazy. And her Grandad.”

“Her Aunt? Kate Argent?”

Stiles nodded, “She burnt down the Hale house because of what they are.”

“Jesus,” John’s face paled. “Were they all wolves?”

“No,” Stiles said before he took a sip of his hot chocolate.

“Melissa, how long have you known?”

“Since that night at the station,” Melissa answered.

“Jesus,” John threw back the whiskey. “All those deaths. Werewolves.”

“Actually -” Scott started.

“What?”

“That was something else,” Scott looked at John. “Derek bit Jackson - he asked for it - but Jackson turned into something else, a Kanima. He, uh, was being controlled and used as a killing machine.”

“I guess that explains why the Whittemores left town. Anything else? What were those wolves tonight after?”

“Me,” said Stiles. “They were a pack of Alphas, really, really powerful wolves. And they believed in a prophecy about a magic holder and - it sounds totally insane, dad, I know. But they thought that was me and -”

“Why?”

“What?”

“Why did they think it was you?”

“Um, I made a magic circle once out of ash and now everyone thinks I’m special.”

Scott nudged Stiles with his elbow, “You are special, dude.”

Stiles snorted, “Thanks, buddy.”

Melissa rolled her eyes and clapped her hands together, “Okay. I think we’ve covered the important parts for now. John, I’m taking you to the hospital and getting your wrist set. Scott, you’re going home and getting some sleep and maybe, maybe I’ll let you take tomorrow off school. Stiles, bed. You’re exhausted.”

“Wait - just, one more thing,” John said. “Derek Hale?”

Stiles sighed, “Not a bad guy. Not even a little bit. His Uncle was responsible for those murders and, yes, I will explain that tomorrow.”

“Okay,” John said. He placed a soft kiss on Stiles’ forehead and let himself get hustled out of the house by Melissa. Scott cleared up the mugs and sat with Stiles for a moment before he realised Stiles was close to falling asleep on the sofa. He sent him upstairs and left the house. Stiles crawled up the staircase, the thought of his bed the only thing making him move. He made a half hearted attempt at brushing his teeth before he walked to his room. When he swung the door open, he saw Derek sitting on the end of his bed. Shit.


	5. Chapter 5

Derek looked exhausted. By the lack of blood, he’d obviously stopped off at the loft to clean up. Stiles shook his head and made a gesture with his hands, “Can you just - I can’t do this.”

“I’m not leaving.”

Stiles rolled his eyes and walked around Derek. He fell onto the bed and kicked Derek with his foot. Derek held on to his foot gently and ignored Stiles’ whine of protest.

“You don’t have to say anything, Stiles.”

“Good,” Stiles said into his pillow. “I don’t have anything to say.”

“That’s a change.”

“Ugh,” Stiles groaned. He turned over and stared at the back of Derek’s head. “Why are you here?”

“Because you shouldn’t be alone,” Derek let go of Stiles’ foot and shifted until he was sitting on the side of the bed. Stiles could see the side of his face, the heavy set of his jaw. He suppressed the urge to sit up and run a hand along the stubble.

“I want to be alone. I want to be alone so I can sleep and not have to think about any of this.”

“You really think you’re going to be able to sleep?”

“I don’t - what -” Stiles closed his eyes. All he could see was Ethan’s face as he - no, he wasn’t going to be able to sleep, but it’s not like he needed Derek in his room either.

Derek twisted his hand in Stiles’ blankets and waited for a beat before his shoulders hunched and he started talking. “I couldn’t sleep for a week after - when I closed my eyes all I saw was her face when she -”

Stiles’ eyes shot open and he instinctively sat up. He touched Derek lightly on the arm, “You don’t have to -”

“You deserve to hear it,” Derek swallowed. “After what I said. I didn’t - it wasn’t about you. Whatever happened afterwards, what I said - it wasn’t about _you_.”

“Okay.”

“It’s not okay, Stiles, how can you say that? I should never -”

“Well, yeah, it’s not okay. But what I said was shitty as well. I don’t blame you for Scott being bitten, and -”

“What?”

Stiles bit his lip as Derek looked at him, “If your family dying because you got fooled by Kate is your fault, than what happened tonight is my fault and I - I don’t think either of us deserve that on our heads.”

“Stiles,” Derek breathed out. “You can’t compare - I should’ve known better. My mom told me there were hunters in town, I didn’t listen -”

“And I did? You told me, shit, even Scott told me to be careful about new people and I just ignored you all. My dad he - they could’ve and -” Stiles cut himself off, his heart pounded in his chest as he tried to put the thought out of his head. He didn’t notice when Derek reached over and tugged at him until he was plastered against Derek’s side. Stiles didn’t notice when Derek stretched them both out on the bed, and he didn’t notice when his eyes finally fluttered shut.

-

Stiles was surprised that he hadn’t woken up during the night, even with Derek sleeping with him. He rubbed his eyes and didn’t need to look to know Derek was no longer in his bed. Residual warmth floated up from the sheet as he turned over, Derek’s scent still on the bed - earthy and comforting. Stiles blinked and contemplated not getting up, but he could hear his dad in the kitchen and, well, food. He didn’t bother to change out of what he slept in, and stumbled down the stairs to find his dad and Derek sitting at the kitchen table.

“Uh -” Stiles said, his mouth dropping open.

John looked up from his breakfast, “Morning son. You’re not going into school today.”

“Okay,” Stiles sunk into the chair next to Derek, opposite his dad. “At the risk of you going back on that, why is Derek here?”

Derek stared at his plate as if he’d never seen bacon before. His hand was clasped around Stiles’ favourite mug and he refused to look at Stiles.

“I came back from the hospital last night and looked in on you. Imagine my surprise when I found you in bed with Derek Hale and both of you fast asleep,” John took a bite of his eggs.

Stiles blanched, “I can explain -”

“No need, Derek already has,” John eyed Derek. “And we now have an agreement about you using the front door, don’t we Derek?”

“Yes sir.”

“And about sleepovers with my underage son.”

“Dad! It wasn’t - that’s not what was -”

“Calm down, Stiles,” John quirked a smile at his son. “I found out that werewolves are real last night, you think your old man isn’t going to have some fun?”

Stiles narrowed his eyes, “They gave you the good drugs at the hospital, didn’t they?”

“That is not the point.”

Derek glanced at Stiles, “You want some breakfast?”

“You cooked?”

“Yeah,” Derek shrugged. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Okay,” Stiles watched as Derek crossed to the fridge and pulled out some eggs. He raised an eyebrow at Stiles and it took Stiles a second to realise what he was asking. “Scrambled, thanks.”

Derek nodded and cracked them on the side of the pan. Stiles sat dumbly in his seat as Derek moved with ease around the Stilinski’s kitchen. Derek put a full plate in front of Stiles, a small smile barely visible on his face. Stiles grinned up at him and dug in. His eyes widened when he tasted the eggs, “These are good.”

“I do know how to cook, Stiles.”

“And here I thought you just ate raw venison.”

John pointed a finger at him, “Inappropriate breakfast conversation.”

“We have werewolf-specific breakfast rules now?”

“Well,” John said. “I don’t think this is going to be a one off.”

Derek and Stiles both looked at him with shock on their faces.

“What?” Stiles asked.

“Son, you’ve been lying to me for a very long time. That ends, now. If breakfast with your Alpha is what it takes for you to actually talk to me, then that’s what we’ll do.”

Stiles scrunched up his face, “He’s not - I’m not a wolf, dad.”

“Doesn’t mean he’s not your Alpha. Derek was telling me about pack structure.”

“Oh my God, can you stop calling him my Alpha? Can’t you just call him Derek? Or - or my friend? If you call him my Alpha in public, this town is going to have some very awkward questions for you.”

Derek stared at Stiles, and Stiles could feel his cheeks flush. It wasn’t a lie. If he couldn’t claim friendship after last night, then when could he? Derek was his friend and he was just going to have to deal with that.

John coughed and Derek looked away from Stiles before standing up, “I should probably go. Check that the hunters cleared everything away.”

“You let me know if you need anything,” John extended his hand for Derek to shake. “And thank you for last night.”

“It wasn’t something you have to thank me for.”

“You saved my son’s life. That deserves a thank you.”

Derek looked uncomfortable under John’s scrutiny and it made Stiles wonder just what they’d talked about before he woke up. He dropped his cutlery onto the plate with a clatter and stood up, “I’ll walk Derek out.”

John raised his coffee mug in assent. Stiles could feel his dad’s eyes on him as he followed Derek down the hall.

“Are you okay?” asked Derek.

Stiles sighed and shook his head, “No. Not yet.”

“Come here,” Derek pulled Stiles into a hug.

“I didn’t even know you knew how to hug,” Stiles said into Derek’s neck.

“I’m trying something new.”

Stiles could hear the smirk in Derek’s voice and he relaxed slightly. He hummed when Derek’s hand brushed the nape of his neck. Stiles didn’t know how long they stood there like that, he could feel Derek’s chest move as he breathed deeply, knew that Derek was probably attempting to get rid of Ethan’s scent as much as he could. Some part of Stiles thought he should be bothered by that, that maybe it was like he was property, but a larger part of him just wanted to be rid of anything that Ethan had touched. Since clawing his skin off would be seen as extreme measures, he’d settle for this.

Derek let him go and touched Stiles cheek with his hand, “Come to the loft tomorrow with everyone, okay?”

Stiles nodded, “Yeah. Okay.”

-

Scott turned up at Stiles’ door with pizza and soda. Stiles grinned and let him in, they settled in the living room and fired up the XBox. John poked his head in and told them he was stopping in at the station to do paperwork. He stood in the door a little longer than usual before he left. Stiles knew what that look was, his dad had given it to his mom when she’d first gotten sick and he hated that his dad thought he was in enough danger to bring it back. He took the controller Scott held out to him and tried to lose himself in the game.

“When did Derek leave?” Scott asked.

“You knew he was here?”

“Yeah - I mean, you kind of smell like you bathed in him.”

“Really?”

Scott wrinkled his nose, “Yeah.”

“He slept in my bed -”

“He what? Dude -”

“No,” Stiles smacked Scott around the head. “Did you forget the part where my boyfriend and his evil pack kidnapped me and my dad yesterday?”

“Sorry,” Scott said, a sheepish look on his face. “Didn’t think.”

“S’fine,” Stiles stuffed a slice of pizza in his mouth.

Scott furrowed his brow, “Are you - do you want to talk about it?”

Stiles shrugged, “I don’t know. I - there’s not really anything anyone can do to make it better. How many people have their first boyfriend turn out to be evil?”

“Buffy did.”

“Yep,” Stiles sighed. “Sadly, she’s a fictional character. I don’t know, man. My dad’s safe, I’m safe. If it weren’t for Derek we’d both be -”

“He was so mad when he realised you’d been taken. We couldn’t even keep up with him when he left the loft.”

“What?”

“He didn’t tell you?”

Stiles shook his head, the controller dropped to the floor.

“When I got up there, and you didn’t come up afterwards, he went, like, super mad. He left before any of us realised what had happened.”

“Huh.”

“Yeah,” Scott sat forward and grabbed his soda. “I don’t know what happened, but he came back to the loft and his eyes were scary red. He said he’d picked up on your scent, but we had to leave now, Allison called her dad on the way and, well, you know the rest.”

“I -” Stiles had a lump in his throat. He shook his head and swallowed. “I didn’t think he’d come.”

“Oh,” Scott looked at him. “Why?”

“Because of what I said to him. I didn’t think he -”

Scott was shaking his head, “Stiles, I love you, you’re my best friend. But you’re an idiot.”

“Hey!”

“Derek wouldn’t just leave you to die. Did you miss how the past few months have been all about protecting you?”

“I, uh -”

“As much as I don’t want to talk about Derek’s feelings, trust me, if you were ever in danger, Derek would find you and kill whoever was responsible.”

“Because I’m a fragile, squishy human.”

“No, dumbass, because you’re you.”

“Uh - what?”

Scott screwed up his face, “Please don’t make me say it.”

“I’m not sure I want you to say anything right now because you’ve obviously ingested some kind of werewolf LSD.”

“Really wish I had.”

“You - you’re wrong.”

“There’s a lot of things I’m not great about with being a werewolf yet, but the way Derek smells when he’s around you? I could’ve gone my entire _life_ without knowing that,” Scott mock shuddered. “Why do you think he was such a brat about Ethan even before last night?”

“I didn’t think about it,” Stiles said automatically. “Are you sure?”

“Really, really sure.”

“Huh.”

“Stiles?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re not going to - are you?” Scott examined Stiles’ face. “Oh my God, you are.”

“I’m not - I - seriously, Scott, do you have some kind of mental block over what happened last night?” Stiles said, frustrated. “I can’t just jump Derek after - I’m not okay. Derek’s not okay. We’re both - damaged.” The last word came out as a whisper and Stiles avoided looking at Scott.

“You’re not damaged. Okay, well, you kind of are.”

Stiles snorted, “Thanks buddy.”

“Do you remember after my dad left? And my mom was so scared of being around another guy that she only ever left the house for work and if we needed something?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, so what my dad did, when he - it damaged my mom, and me, but it didn’t define us. Not once we dealt with it. This whole thing with Ethan, yeah, it was fucked up, but Stiles, you’re more than that. You’re more than a shitty relationship with a jackass.”

Stiles laughed and shook his head, “Scott, dude, have you been reading Cosmo again?”

“Shut up douchebag,” Scott grinned.

They finished the pizza in silence, Stiles squinting at the screen as Scott switched the game off and started flicking through Netflix.

“Scott?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”


	6. Chapter 6

“Is Derek coming over tomorrow?”

Stiles looked up from his homework, “Uh, I think so. Why?”

“Because I picked up some steaks in celebration of my cast coming off, I thought he might like to join us.”

“Those would be steaks you’re having with a nice big salad, right?”

“Stiles.”

“I’ll ask him,” Stiles grabbed his phone and sent Derek a text. It didn’t take long before a reply came through. “He says yes. Six?”

John nodded, “Sounds good.”

“You need me to drive you to the hospital tomorrow?”

“I’ve roped Deputy Hendricks into doing it.”

“Picking on the new guy, that’s my dad,” Stiles looked down at his math textbook. “Why do you want Derek to come over anyway?”

“Do you not want him to?”

“Didn’t say that.”

“Because I thought you two were -” John drifted off with a grimace.

“What? Dad, no. We’re not,” Stiles sighed. “How is this my life?”

“You were the one who got involved with werewolves, kid. I’m just along for the ride.”

“We -” Stiles stopped talking. He wasn’t sure how to define his relationship with Derek. Everything had changed once his dad found out about what had been going on. Whenever Derek and John saw each other, John kept making suggestions to Derek about joining the force once the pack was established again. Stiles couldn’t help but wonder if this was what it had been like for Derek growing up. If, aside from the werewolf stuff, his life had just been as regular as everyone elses.

“Stiles?”

“Yeah?”

“Is this - your reluctance - is it about what happened?”

Stiles shook his head, “No. Not really.”

“It’s been six weeks. It’s okay if you don’t think that’s long enough to get into another relationship.”

“Can I just say how weird it is to be discussing this with you? Because, seriously.”

“Deflection.”

“Yeah,” Stiles sighed. “It’s not about that, it’s about more than that. I feel like -”

“Like what?”

“Like if anything started with Derek that would be _it_ for me,” Stiles twirled a pen between his fingers absently. “Like mom was for you.”

“Oh boy,” John breathed out.

“I don’t know if I want my life planned out for me. I’m not even legally an adult yet.”

“Don’t remind me,” John winced. “Stiles, I met your mom when I was young. Not as young as you are, but young enough that I was scared about having my whole life planned out. It took me too long to decide that I wanted her forever, that I wanted to build a life with her. If I’d known that she - I would’ve got my act together a lot sooner.”

“So you think I should -”

“I don’t _think_ you should do anything, it’s not my decision, it’s yours. Hear me when I say I am not condoning a relationship between my underage son and a man in his twenties. But I want you to be happy. If Derek can make you happy, then I’ll deal with it, for as long as it goes on. With your mom, I realised that being with her wasn’t about planning my life out, it was about making a life with her. It got to the point where I couldn’t picture my life without her.”

Stiles looked up and saw the the tears in his dad’s eyes. He reached across the table and took his dad’s hand, squeezing softly.

-

“I’ll get it,” Stiles called to his dad when the doorbell rang. He opened the door and grinned when he saw Derek standing there, a case of beer in his hands. “Hi.”

Derek nodded and walked in the house, “How’d your physics test go?”

“Fine,” Stiles followed him through the house and into the backyard where his dad had fired up the grill. “Got any other boring questions for me?”

“Wanting to know how you’re doing in school is boring?”

“Are you an Aunt I barely see?”

Derek snorted, “No.”

“Then it’s a boring question,” Stiles flopped down on the porch step.

“Stiles, stop being rude,” John flipped the steaks into the grill. “Hello Derek, how do you want your steak?”

“Medium rare, thank you.”

Stiles glanced up at him, “You mean you don’t want it bloody and dripping?”

“We talked about stereotypes, Stiles,” Derek said with a grin as he sat next to Stiles. “Stereotypes are bad.”

“So that wasn’t you dragging a buck from the woods and laying it at my feet during the last full moon?”

“Stiles,” Derek hissed as he looked over at John.

“Relax. He knows you get all furry, remember?”

“It’s not that. It’s -” Derek cut himself off and directed his gaze to the floor. If Stiles looked closely, he could’ve sworn that Derek was blushing. He narrowed his eyes and stared at Derek. Stiles was about to say something when his dad told him to go and get the salad. He clambered to a standing position, using Derek’s shoulder as leverage, and walked into the house.

When Stiles came back out, Derek and his dad were standing together by the grill, talking in low voices. Stiles frowned and cleared his throat loudly, “Salad is up. Are the steaks ready?”

“Just about.”

Stiles put the salad on the table and opened two beers for his dad and Derek. He walked over to the grill and handed them over, trying to ignore the small burst of pleasure he got when Derek’s fingers brushed his.

“So,” John said once they’d sat at the table. “Have you had any luck finding Erica or Boyd?”

Derek shook his head, “No. We haven’t even been able to track their scents. If it were another pack trying to make a point, they’d make sure we found them no matter what.”

“You mean if they were -”

“Yeah. The best I can hope for at this point is that they’ve found a home somewhere else,” Derek took a swig of his beer. “I don’t blame them for leaving, if they came back, that would be fine. I just want them to be happy.”

“That’s a good attitude to have,” John nodded.

“I’m trying to be less grumpy,” Derek said with a quick smirk at Stiles. “Apparently it’s a flaw.”

Stiles widened his eyes, “I never said flaw. I just happened to mention you might want to act less like the entire world is out to get you when it’s really only about half.”

“You’re right, that’s so much better.”

“I’m going to ignore the sarcasm there and concentrate on those first two words.”

Derek huffed, “Good, because you won’t be hearing them again.”

“I think I will,” Stiles murmured.

-

After dinner finished, John went to watch television and left Derek and Stiles to clear up. Stiles loaded the dishwasher while Derek put the remains of the salad in the fridge. They stood in silence for a moment, listening to the dim noise of the television. Derek finished his beer and put the bottle on the counter. Stiles tucked his hands into his back pockets, “Do you have to be somewhere?”

Derek shook his head, “Upstairs?” he asked.

“Yeah. I’m just going to -” Stiles waved a hand in the direction of the living room. “I’ll meet you up there.”

Stiles waited until Derek had gone up the stairs before he joined his dad in the living room. He sat on the edge of the sofa and bit his lip. John shot Stiles a look before he sighed indulgently, “Yes, Stiles?”

“Uh. Derek’s in my room.”

“Okay. He’s often in your room now, you know I don’t mind.”

“Yeah,” Stiles picked at a thread on his pants. “I just - you’re not going to shoot him now, right? If anything - not that I’m saying it will - but if something happens? I know Mr. Argent gave you wolfsbane bullets.”

“Stiles, I’m not going to shoot your boyfriend.”

“Oh my God, he’s not my - okay, goodbye. Enjoy your show.”

Stiles fled up the stairs to the sound of his dad’s laughter. He opened the door to his bedroom to see Derek laying on his bed, flicking through a copy of _Where The Wild Things Are_. Stiles couldn’t help the soft smile that he knew appeared on his face.

“Hi,” said Stiles as he joined Derek on the bed. At some point he was going to have to talk to his dad about upgrading his bed. He rested his chin on Derek’s chest and flung his arm around Derek’s waist. Sometimes Stiles was just content to watch Derek like this. It had taken a while for Stiles to realise Derek was fully relaxed whenever he was at the Stilinski house and now he indulged Derek in whatever he wanted to do while he was here.

“You’re staring at me,” Derek said without taking his eyes away from the book.

“You should be used to it.”

Derek snorted and put the book down. He rested a hand in Stiles’ hair and gazed down at him. Stiles tilted his head into the touch and sighed when Derek started to move his fingers in a slow massage. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of Derek’s hands on him. Stiles groaned when Derek’s hand slipped to his neck and went boneless when the firm pressure didn’t let up.

“Shit, Derek.”

“You like that?” Derek’s voice was hoarse and Stiles smiled against Derek’s chest.

“You know I do,” Stiles rubbed his face against the fabric of Derek’s shirt before he moved his arm slightly, let his fingers rest on the bare skin exposed where Derek’s shirt had ridden up.

Derek sucked in a breath, his hands stilled. “Stiles?” he asked, his voice almost vulnerable.

Stiles lifted his head from Derek’s chest, met Derek’s wide eyes and continued to touch the strip of skin his fingers rested on. Derek swallowed and grasped Stiles’ other arm, pulled him up until they were face to face. Stiles brought a hand up to Derek’s face and paused with his fingers an inch from the skin until Derek nodded, until Derek gave permission. He traced a pattern across Derek’s forehead, his ridiculous eyebrows, felt the stubble on Derek’s cheeks catch on his fingertips and the surprising softness of his lips. Derek didn’t stop looking at Stiles as Stiles explored his face. Stiles paused with his fingertips resting on Derek’s lips. They stared at each other, Stiles could feel Derek’s chest move with each breath, was painfully aware that he could still hear the television blaring from the living room. Derek’s tongue slipped out of his mouth and licked Stiles’ fingertips.

“Fuck,” Stiles breathed. He pulled his hand back and leant forward, braced himself on his arms and pressed his lips against Derek’s. This was nothing like he had ever experienced before. Derek kissed back, kept the kiss chaste, his hands settled in the small of Stiles’ back. Stiles was aware of everything, the slight hitch in Derek’s breath when Stiles first kissed him, the way Derek relaxed into it when Stiles went back for another kiss, Derek’s hands slowly stroking against Stiles’ back, the rasp of Derek’s stubble against Stiles’ skin.

Stiles pulled back and rested his forehead against Derek’s, “Wow,” he said. “Just - wow.”

Derek grinned, and Stiles was overcome with the urge to kiss the crinkles at the side of his eyes. So he did. Over and over again until they were both laughing.

“Not that it bothers me,” Derek said once they’d stopped laughing. “But why tonight?”

“I talked to my dad,” said Stiles. “He made me realise a few things.”

“Okay.”

“That’s it? Okay?”

“Yeah,” Derek kissed Stiles’ neck. “He talked to me when you were getting the salad.”

“Did he threaten you with his gun?”

“No. Your dad likes me.”

Stiles raised an eyebrow, “You’re in his underaged son’s bedroom. I don’t think he likes you that much.”

Derek pinched Stiles’ side and ignored Stiles’ protest, “If he didn’t like me, I wouldn’t be allowed in this house, let alone your bedroom.”

“Stop using logic on me.”

“You want me to use something else on you?”

Stiles’ mouth dropped open, “I can’t believe you just said that. It’s a good job you’re pretty.”

“Pretty?” Derek said as he cupped Stiles’ face with a hand.

“You don’t like pretty? Beautiful? Stunning? Handsome?” Stiles smiled into the kiss Derek planted on him, opening his mouth instinctively when Derek licked against the seam of his lips. The kiss intensified, Derek’s hands moved to grip Stiles’ ass as he craned his neck up, chasing Stiles’ mouth when Stiles groaned out loud. Stiles pressed his hips against Derek’s, the feel of Derek hard against him turned him on more than anything ever had before, even through the layers of fabric between them. He bit down on Derek’s lower lip and whined when Derek ground up against him.

Derek pulled back for a moment and locked eyes with Stiles, “Okay?”

Stiles kissed him, “Yes,” he whispered.

“Good,” Derek captured Stiles’ lips again and deepened the kiss, his hips thrusting upwards against Stiles. Stiles was held in place by Derek’s hands on his ass, he gave over to the sensations that were coursing through his body. He knew he’d be coming in his pants, he didn’t care, and the way Derek was straining against him as they ground against each other made Stiles realise he wouldn’t be the only one. Derek licked his way down to Stiles’ neck and sucked a mark there, Stiles gasped out loud and pushed his hips down, his cock started to ache with the need to come. He thrust down again and again until Derek lightly nipped at his neck and with a short yell, Stiles came.

“Jesus, Stiles,” Derek said as he kissed Stiles’ open mouth. Derek held Stiles by the hips and flipped them over. He rolled his hips against Stiles, making Stiles’ body jerk with the sensitivity. Derek sucked at Stiles’ bottom lip and moaned when Stiles dug his fingers into Derek’s jean clad ass. He ground his hips down one last time and came with his mouth against Stiles’ jaw.

Stiles let go of Derek’s ass and grinned when Derek placed a soft kiss against his jaw. He ran a hand up Derek’s back and stroked the hair at the nape of his neck, Derek shivered against him, his face tucked against Stiles’ neck.

“Not that this isn’t the best I’ve felt in a really long time, but this is kind of gross,” said Stiles.

Derek made a snuffling noise and buried his face even further against Stiles’ neck. “Don’t care,” he muttered. He wriggled his arms underneath Stiles’ body and relaxed against him.

Stiles looked up at the ceiling and made a face, “Dude, seriously, I can feel the come in my pants sticking to places.” He pinched the back of Derek’s neck and laughed when Derek made a wounded noise. “Derek, come on. We can go right back to cuddling, just let me get these pants off.”

“Uff,” Derek sat up and climbed off Stiles. He stood up and unzipped his jeans, pushed them down to reveal black boxer briefs and kicked them off. Stiles knew his mouth was hanging open, but - damn. Derek looked around the room, “Have you got anything I can wear?”

Stiles closed his mouth and shook his head, “Um, maybe?” He got off the bed and ignored the feeling in his pants as he opened the bottom drawer and pulled out a pair of sweatpants he’d inherited from his dad. They were a little too big for him, but would probably fit Derek. He threw them over his shoulder and grabbed a pair of sleep pants for himself. Stiles walked over and handed the sweatpants to Derek.

“Bathroom?” Derek asked.

“You know where it is.”

“No, I mean,” Derek took a step towards Stiles and hooked a finger into his belt loop. “Come with me.”

“Considering you’re asking me to go with you so we can clean come off ourselves, that was very cute.”

“Stiles,” Derek rubbed his palm against his face. “Just, come with me, okay?”

“Okay, but if my dad catches us, you’re doing the explaining.”

In the bathroom, Derek shoved Stiles against the wall and pulled his pants off. He smirked at the Batman boxers before he took them off as well. Derek took a washcloth and wiped Stiles down, kissing the dips of his hipbones. Stiles clenched his fists and tried to ignore the way his cock was stirring again. That wasn’t what this was about, this was - this was different. Derek looked up at Stiles with a questioning face.

“Teenager,” Stiles shrugged. “You don’t have to -”

Derek shook his head, “Do you want me to?”

“I - yeah.”

“Then,” Derek straightened up. “I want to.” He wet his hand with the washcloth and stroked Stiles’ cock to full hardness. Stiles let out a whining noise as Derek wrapped his hand around Stiles’ cock and started to jerk him firmly. Derek kissed him gently, grunted when Stiles placed a hand on his neck and held him in place, deepening the kiss. Stiles’ other hand scrambled for purchase against the tiled wall behind him. Derek flicked his thumb over the head of Stiles’ cock and laughed when Stiles thrust his hips forward in reaction.

“Shit, Derek, not going to -”

“S’okay,” Derek kissed Stiles’ neck. “Come on,” he said as he worked his hand quicker. “Come on Stiles, come for me.” He grazed his thumb over the slit and smiled against Stiles’ neck as Stiles groaned, spilling come over Derek’s hand.

Stiles slumped to the floor and eyed Derek as he washed his hands. Derek took off his boxer briefs and cleaned himself up before he tugged the sweatpants on. He crouched next to Stiles and kissed his temple, “You okay?”

“Nope, you broke me,” Stiles held his arms up. “Carry me to bed now.”

Derek laughed and pulled Stiles up with him to a standing position. He walked him over to the bath and made him perch on the edge. Stiles traced a hand through Derek’s hair as he cleaned up the come that had splattered onto Stiles’ thighs. Derek reached behind him for Stiles’ sleep pants and quickly got Stiles into them. “You think you can stand up now? Or are we going to risk your dad catching me carrying you to bed bridal style?”

Stiles slapped Derek’s arm, “Asshole.”

“Your asshole,” Derek smirked, as he leant forward and kissed Stiles.

-

The next morning, Stiles stumbled down the stairs with Derek close behind him. He pushed Derek up against the wall in the hallway and kissed him, his hands slipped underneath Derek’s shirt.

“Ahem,” John said.

Stiles froze and turned around to face his dad, “Um.”

John raised an eyebrow, “Are those my sweatpants Derek’s wearing?”

“Uh. Yes?”

“I get bacon today,” John said. “And we’re going over ground rules. Lots of ground rules that will hopefully stop this town from thinking I’m allowing my underage son to cavort with someone like,” he waved a hand and sighed. “That. Could you try and smile a bit more, Derek? In public?”

“Um, I could try?” Derek said.

“Good, excellent,” Stiles said, loudly. “So, you go and sit down, dad and Derek and I will make breakfast before I have to go to school, okay? Okay, great.” Stiles grabbed Derek’s hand and pulled him down the hall to the kitchen. He sat at the table while Derek started making breakfast. “Oh my God,” Stiles muttered to himself. “How could I forget my dad lived here? How? It’s only been forever. Oh my God.”

“Stiles, breathe,” Derek said. “What do you want in your omelette?”

“Huh?”

Derek looked over at him, “Omelettes. I’m making them. What do you want?”

“Ham? Cheese? No mushrooms. How are you not freaking out about this?”

“Because I know that whatever you think, your dad isn’t loading his gun with wolfsbane bullets right now,” Derek poured Stiles some orange juice and set the glass in front of him. “You know he just wants you to be happy, right?”

Stiles nodded, “He told me that.”

“Okay. So, do I make you happy?”

“Yeah,” Stiles said softly. “You do.”

“Stop worrying, then. And put the bacon on for your dad.”

“Just one moment.”

“Wha - oh,” Derek tilted his head as Stiles fisted his hand in Derek’s shirt and pulled him down into a kiss. Stiles worked his tongue into Derek’s mouth and ran his other hand across Derek’s stomach, tracing his abs. He was just about to pull Derek onto his lap when he heard a crash and Derek sprung back from him.

“Seriously,” John said as he picked up the remains of his coffee mug. “Ground rules. So many ground rules.”


End file.
